


Nana's Not Coming Home Anymore

by AGJ1990



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU Weechesters, Weechesters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25060870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AGJ1990/pseuds/AGJ1990
Summary: John Winchester has killed the demon that killed his wife. He can finally go home and be actively involved in the life of his boys, 13 year old Dean and almost 9 year old Sammy, who up to this point have been raised by his mother, Millie. Except, he can't. Because this morning, Sammy found his beloved Nana dead in her bed. AU Weechester story.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

John Winchester was a happy man.

He had done what he set out to do eight years before. Mary's killer had been found and killed himself. Itself. Whatever. It didn't matter. The thing was dead, and John could move on with his life now.

In the passenger seat of the car was two gifts. One was a set of Beverly Cleary books. That was for Sammy, who was turning nine years old in two weeks. John also had plans for Sammy's birthday, but that he would worry about later. The other gift was a BB gun. Thirteen year old Dean had begged for a BB gun for years, and John just hoped his mother would allow him to keep it.

When his wife had died eight years earlier, John had been furious with his mother. She'd at first offered to take care of the boys when John had mentioned what he was planning to do, but when he told her that no, the boys needed to be with him, his mother had upped the ante. She'd told John that if he didn't agree to take care of his children, to put their needs ahead of his own, she would have him taken to court and the children taken away from him.

For three days, John had stewed in his hatred for his mother. He'd wondered how she could be so heartless as to threaten to take his children from him. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized that his mother had been right. He couldn't raise the boys on the road with him. They needed a home, stability, someone who could focus on them the way they deserved.

And so, on a day that John wanted to scrub from his memory forever, he'd delivered a four-year-old Dean and a nine-month-old Sammy to his mother's doorstep, where they'd stayed ever since.

The boys thrived in his mother's care. She doted on them, treating them both as her sons in how she raised them and her grandsons in how she spoiled them. Sam was a straight A student, and Dean had a heart of gold. Because of that, rather than taking the boys back from his mother full stop, he was simply going to move in with her and allow the boys to continue their lives virtually undisturbed.

John was ready to take his life back.

He was still over two hundred miles away from his mother's home. He was breaking the speed limit to get there, but a feeling of doom had been hanging over him all day. He'd wanted to show up and surprise his mother, but the feeling that he needed to call her wouldn't leave him. So, grumbling internally at the lost time, he pulled over to a diner and got on the payphone. He dialed his mother's number and waited for her to pick up.

And waited. And waited.

The phone rang twelve times before anyone answered. John had decided that maybe his mother wasn't home, which annoyed him a little as he wanted her to tell him when she left the house. It made him nervous not to know where his boys were. But he'd accepted long ago that it wasn't practical to know that information all the time, so he'd settled for talking to the boys once a day to make sure they were safe. Just as John was about to hang up, the phone was finally picked up.

But it wasn't his mother.

"Hello?"

The unfamiliar female voice set John's teeth on edge. "Who is this?"

"My name's Maria Rivera. John?"

 _Maria Rivera?_ , John thought. It took a long moment before he remembered the name. His mother's next door neighbor. "Maria? What's going on? Where's my mom and the boys?"

"Oh, John. We've tried to get a hold of you for a few hours now? Where are you?"

"I'm on my way there. What's going on? Is my mom alright? Are the boys okay?"

"John, the boys are fine. They're over at my house with my husband and daughter right now."

"My mom? Maria, what's going on?"

"John, I don't know how to say this. Your mother died last night."

John was certain his heart slammed to a stop in his chest. "What?"

"I'm sorry, John. Your mother was found dead this morning."

"Found dead? By who?"

A beat passed, and John could feel the heaviness of Maria trying to cater her words to deliver the softest blow possible. "Sammy."

"What?"

"Apparently, Sammy had a bad nightmare last night. He went in to sleep your mom, and when he woke up this morning, she wouldn't wake up."

"Oh, no." As sad as he was about his mother, his first priority was Sammy. "Is Sammy alright?"

"He's in shock, John." Maria said. "Listen, how fast can you get here?"

"I'm on my way now. I'll be there in under three hours."

"Okay. I've got the boys until you get here." Maria promised.

Without saying so much as thank you, John hung the phone up and raced to the car. The thought was blaring in his head, but he couldn't process it yet. Right now, he had only one thing on his mind.

Get to Sam and Dean. Because now, he was all they had.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was just going down, and John pulled up to his mother's house with a heavy heart. He had parked the car and was just getting out when he spotted someone walking across the yard. It was then that John realized just how long it had been since he'd been back to see his mother and his kids. He barely recognized Maria, the woman who had been his mother's neighbor ever since he left for college and his mother's best friend for over thirty years. Maria held out a small coffee cup to John.

"I figured you could use this."

"Thanks." John said gratefully. "Where are the boys?"

"I've had them at my house."

"Had them? How long has it been?"

Maria frowned. "John, your mom died three days ago."

"Three days?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry, I tried to get ahold of you, but…"

"No. It's okay. I'm not mad at you, I'm just…" John sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I'm not mad at you. I'm just sorry I wasn't here."

"Come on over to my house." Maria urged.

"Where are the boys?"

"Barry took Dean to the movies. Sammy's taking a nap. You want me to wake him up?"

"No. Let him sleep." John said.

"Come on."

Maria took John into the house, sitting him at the table where there were cookies, cakes, and piles of food.

"I wasn't sure what to tell everyone about where to take the food, so I've had it here." Maria explained. "We've had so many people coming in and out it's been hard to cook…"

"It's okay. I'm sorry you guys couldn't get in touch with me." John said again. "How are the boys?"

Maria, who was pouring herself a cup of coffee, took a long moment before answering. "Dean seems okay. He's been helping me with the food and stuff. But I don't think he's entirely processed what happened yet. I keep catching him walking to the door like he's just over here for a visit and he's going back home."

John nodded. "And Sam?"

Maria pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and sat down next to John. "Sam is in shock. Big time. He hasn't said a word since I told him and Dean that Millie was dead."

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." Maria said. She took another long sip of her coffee and told the more complete story of the previous three days. "Barry and I were here Saturday morning. It was around nine in the morning, and we were just sitting here drinking our coffee. We heard the ambulance come over and just about then, Dean came running over with Sam."

"Did he say what happened?"

"Yeah. He said that Sam had had a bad dream the night before and went to sleep with Millie. When Sam woke up and it was after eight, he tried to wake up Millie to check on her. He thought she was sick or something."

"Yeah. Mom always was up with the chickens."

"When Sam couldn't wake her up, he went to get Dean, and Dean called 911. The ambulance took her and I brought the boys over here. Barry went to check on your mom at the hospital, but when they got there…"

"She was gone." John guessed.

"Yes. By the way, if anyone ever asks, Barry is your uncle. Your mom's brother. That's the only way they would tell him."

John nodded. "That's fine."

"Barry called me from the hospital and I told the boys."

"Okay. Do they know what happened to her?"

"They think your mom had a heart attack." Maria explained. "She wasn't feeling great that day. She thought she was just getting a bad cold. She had even asked me and Barry if we'd keep the boys for a few days if she didn't get to feeling better."

John let the information soak through. His mother had been ill and gone to bed thinking she had a cold she'd get over in a few days and instead, she'd never woken up again. Not only had she not woken up, she'd been found by John's eight-year-old son, who hadn't spoken a word in three days. And while all this had been going on, John had been celebrating the victory of finding the thing that had killed his wife.

A new thought intruded into John's mind. He was now completely responsible for the lives of both his sons. He had to find a way to bury his mother, get a job, get Sam and Dean to and from school every day, feed them, provide for them, and be there in every way he knew how. He'd given his mother money every week to help with the boys, but now he had to invest the time and energy into Sam and Dean that his mother had given them.

It was terrifying.

"John? John?"

John jumped when Maria grabbed his shoulder. "What?"

"I said do you want some more coffee?"

"Oh. Sure. Thanks."

"And I see that look on your face."

"What look?"

"That look of absolute terror." Maria said. "Listen, your mom made it her life's mission to care for those boys. She already paid for her funeral and told me all the arrangements. She left the house to you and it's completely paid off. She set up an emergency checking account to cover three months of utilities until you find a job. And Barry's been needing help at the car dealership for a few months now. I'm sure he'd be more than willing to find a place for you if you talk to him. And as far as the boys, Barry and I are here to help. They can stay with me while you work."

The relief was powerful. Though he was still wading his feet into virtually unknown territory, he hadn't been thrown into the deep end like he thought. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. Somebody wants to see you."

Maria pointed to the entrance of the kitchen, where a sleepy Sammy stood in the doorway. He was dressed in what he normally went to sleep in-pajama pants that had once belonged to Dean, and a much too big for him t-shirt that John had bought years earlier and only worn a few times.

"I'll get you some more coffee." Maria said.

"Hey, buddy. How you doing?" John asked.

Sammy's only answer was to walk to his father and wrap his arms around John's waist. John, stunned at first, did nothing, until a few moments later when he pulled the lightweight Sammy up onto his lap. They sat in silence for a few moments until the front door opened and Maria's husband Barry walked in. Right behind Barry stood an angry, stone faced Dean.

"Hi, Dean." John said cautiously.

"What are you doing here?"


	3. Chapter 3

“What are you doing here?”

Since Dean had turned twelve the year before, John had dealt with his increasingly sullen attitude about John’s frequent comings and goings. Dean wanted his father to stay behind, and couldn’t understand why his father always chose his mysterious job over his sons so consistently.

John had never told Sam and Dean the complete truth about what had killed their mother. He wanted them to live their lives as normal kids and grow into adults that would make him and their mother proud. Be a doctor or a lawyer or a mechanic or any number of things that John didn’t feel would be possible if they had stayed with their revenge obsessed father. Where he couldn’t give the boys the life they deserved, he’d been absolutely certain that his mother could.

“Dean.” Maria chided lightly. “I know you’re upset, but your father’s here to see you. Be polite to him, please.”

Dean’s lips formed a thin line. “Sorry, Auntie.”

“Sammy? Why don’t we go pick something out for dinner, buddy? Dean needs to talk to your dad.”

Sam’s only response was to squeeze his dad tighter. _No. I don’t want to go. He just got here._

John melted at Sam’s response. He lovingly rubbed Sam’s back and whispered to him, “Hey. I’m not going anywhere.”

Sam looked up into his dad’s face, eyes widening with hope, and suddenly John saw it. The fear, the sadness, the confusion of the last few days. It made the guilt twist painfully inside him, and John kissed Sam’s cheek. He read between the lines and said,

“I promise. I’ll be right here.”

Sam nodded and climbed slowly off his dad’s lap. He took Maria’s hand and walked into the kitchen with her. Barry excused himself, quickly shook John’s hand and welcomed him back, then walked into the kitchen with Maria and Sam. Leaving John and Dean alone.

“Dean, come on. Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to talk. Thanks, anyway.”

“Dean. Come on. I get your mad, but I can’t do anything about it if you don’t talk to me.”

The simmering Dean looked to the kitchen, where Maria was praising Sam on doing something to help with dinner. Sam appeared in the doorway again, showing his father and brother a box of spaghetti noodles and a jar of sauce.

“Spaghetti for dinner?” John guessed. Sam nodded, and John smiled. “Sounds good, bud.”

Sam smiled and walked back into the kitchen. John turned back to Dean, who had taken a seat on the couch and now had his arms folded over his chest, glaring at no one and nothing in particular. John internally sighed. He had brought a group of demons down to their knees, but now that seemed easy compared to rebuilding his relationship with his kids. John stood from the table and walked into the living room, taking his seat a respectful distance from Dean.

“Dean. Talk to me, buddy.”

“I wanted to talk to you three days ago.”

Boom. There it was.

“I know, Dean. I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry?” Dean turned to his father in a rage, his seething silent treatment suddenly forgotten. “You swore to me. One week.”

“I know, Dean.”

“One week, Dad. You promised me that you’d never go a week without calling us. It’s been almost three. Where were you?”

“I had to work, Dean…”

Dean scoffed. “Yeah. Right. Your mysterious ‘job’ needed you.”

“It did, Dean.”

“Well, so did we. I needed you, and Sam needed you, and it turns out Nana needed you too.” Dean said. “You promised me, Dad. What about your stupid job was more important than that?”

John felt his temper rise with Dean’s continued tirade. He had to remind himself again that Dean knew nothing about what John had truly been doing, and he had to keep it that way.

“Dean, you and your brother are the most important part of my life…”

“Yeah, right.” Dean said, and John imagined that if the situation weren’t quite so serious, Dean might’ve rolled his eyes.

“You are, Dean. I’m sorry I haven’t been here for you. But that’s all going to change now.”

“And why should I believe that?” Dean asked.

John wanted to say something. Anything to give Dean a reason he should believe that his father would now be permanently in his life. But Dean was right. He didn’t have a solid reason to believe anything John had to say. John had seen the boy, at most, a handful of times over the last four years, after the hunt for Mary’s killer had ramped up.

“Dean, all I can ask is for a chance. I swear I’m here to stay.”

“What happens when you decide that you don’t like it here with us?”

“That won’t happen, Dean. I’m just asking for a chance here.”

“So what does happen now?”

John sighed. “Well, I was thinking that we stay here tonight, then tomorrow we start moving back into your nana’s house.”

Dean carefully thought it over. He still didn’t trust his father. But right now, he really didn’t have a choice. He couldn’t take care of Sam on his own, and his aunt had no obligation to keep the two of them. John was all they had.

“Fine.” Dean said. “I’m going to set my stuff down.”

“Okay.” John said, not quite sure what to do. As he watched Dean leave to go to his bedroom, he jumped when he felt a hand touch his. Sammy was back, and gently pulling at his hand begging him to follow him.   
  


“Dinner’s ready already?”

Sammy nodded.

“Let’s go eat then.”


	4. Chapter 4

John wasn’t certain, but he thought he was getting this parenting thing down. At least with Sam.

Sam still wasn’t talking. He would answer his father with nods for yes, shakes of the head for no, and would laugh or cry to show how he was feeling. But he flat out refused to talk. At the five day mark, as he put Sam in bed, John took Maria’s advice on the subject and talked to Sam like a grownup.

“I get you’re upset about Nana. But I think there’s something you’re not telling me, and that’s why you’re afraid to talk. I want you to know something. No matter what it is, you won’t get in any trouble. I won’t be mad. So if that’s what’s keeping you from telling me, don’t worry about that. Okay?”

Sam hadn’t answered, and John didn’t push. He knew from experience it could be a long while before Sam would open up enough to talk to him. He just hoped he could keep his patience while he waited.

Millie’s funeral was rough. The only other major loss in John’s life had been Mary, and the boys had both been little then. Dean had a few vague memories of his mother, and Sam, who had only been a baby then, only had memories of Millie being his mother. But other than the funeral, which John made it through with Maria’s help, things seemed to be going smoothly.

Barry had offered John the job, but urged him to take ‘a few days’ with the boys first. Sam was open to his dad being there. He helped John with making meals, brought his dad books for them to read together, and showed him his grades from school. John had no idea that Sam had skipped a grade, and would be starting the fourth grade in the fall. The praise he received from his father seemed to make Sam happy, but when he blushed and pushed the letter away, John got the message.

_That’s enough, Dad._

While Sam seemed merely uncomfortable with excess praise, Dean rebuffed every advance John made. Offers to play basketball were refused, only for John to find Barry outside playing with Dean. Dean would be on the couch with his brother, reading to him or watching cartoons, and suddenly would remember he had homework to do.

John knew for a fact that one was a lie.

School would be out in another week. Dean was an average student, with mostly B’s and C’s, but his grades were good enough that his teacher had promoted him and excused the remaining assignments he had. The same was true with Sam. Not wanting to cause an argument with Dean, John chose not to confront him with it and just continue to try and connect with him.

Any way he had to.

“Okay, Sammy. Your birthday’s tomorrow. I need a hint, buddy. What do you want? A party? Cake? A special present?”

Sammy, who was sitting at the table eating his breakfast, simply shrugged.

“Come on, buddy. I’m drowning here. Give me something.” John begged. “How about this? If I guess, will you tell me?”

Sam smiled and nodded.

“Okay. Do you like…chocolate cake?”

Sam gave a ‘thumbs down’ gesture and his smile widened a little. _Try again, Dad._

“No go on the chocolate. How about pie?”

Sam scrunched his face and put both thumbs down.

“Okay, no on the pie. Ice cream?”

That got a response from Sam. He seemed to think about his answer first, and finally offered his father a thumbs up.

“Ice cream? That works. You don’t want a birthday cake at all?”

“Nana always made his cake.”

John turned around and found Dean standing there. He looked like he’d been there for a while. John wondered if he’d been listening to the entire conversation, and tried to fight the feeling of annoyance that he would just stand there and not help John try to figure out what to do for his brother’s birthday.

“Hey there, Dean. Want some breakfast?”

“No thanks. I’m not hungry.” Dean said.

“I’m not cooking again until lunchtime.”

“I didn’t ask you to.” Dean sniped.

“Okay. That’s it. Dean, sit down. Now.”

Dean looked as if he wanted to argue, and John was grateful that he didn’t. “Sammy, if you’re done, buddy, why don’t you go over to your aunt’s for a bit?”

Sam looked worried, going back and forth from his father to his brother.

“Dean and I need to have a talk, buddy. That’s all.”

“It’s cool, Sammy. I’ll be fine. Go ahead.”

Sam still seemed unsure, but he started to pick up his breakfast dishes to take them into the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about that, Sammy. Dean’ll take care of it.”

Sam simply nodded, looked back to his brother as if to say _good luck_ , and left to go next door. John watched from the kitchen window to make sure Sam made it safely, then turned back around to the still seated Dean. Dean was looking down, staring intently at his feet. John sighed, took a moment to gather his thoughts, then prayed for his mother’s patience to be channeled through him before taking his seat in front of Dean.

“Dean. Look at me.”

Dean continued to look steadily at his feet.

_Come on, Mom. Help me out here._ “Dean. Look at me, now.”

An exasperated Dean sighed heavily and looked up. He didn’t say anything, even though he wanted to. He knew John was trying, but Dena just didn’t have it in him now to cut his father any kind of a break.

His mind kept going back over the past three weeks. Sam had always had nightmares before, but they’d ramped up a lot in the two weeks before Millie’s death. Sam wouldn’t tell anyone what had happened in the dreams, claiming at first that he didn’t remember them. Only after waking up crying, yet again, and taking advantage of his little brother being too vulnerable to refuse, had Dean dug the details of the dreams from Sam.

They were all the same. Sam was a baby, lying in his crib, and a man he’d never seen before was standing over him. He would cry for someone to come and help him, but no one came. The man left, and a few moments later, the room around Sam was burning down, and Sam was being lifted out of the crib.

Dean knew his grandmother hadn’t been feeling well for a few days before her heart attack. She’d tried to hide it, keep Sam and Dean believing that she was okay, but Dean could see through it. He’d tried to convince her to go to a doctor, but Nana insisted she was fine and would always change the subject.

That had started Dean’s pattern of calling his father. He’d try to call him using the emergency voicemail number that John had left. He’d told his dad that he was pretty sure Nana was sick and she needed a doctor, but she wouldn’t listen to Dean. He’d begged John to come home and help him, dragging Millie to the doctor if that was what it came to.

That had been the first message to be ignored.

A couple of days later, Dean got a different idea.

He called his dad on the voicemail number again and told him about Sam’s nightmares. He begged his dad to come home again.

The second message was ignored too.

Finally, the worst happened. Two days after the message about Sam’s nightmares, Sam had come running into Dean’s room, crying and dragging him off to Nana’s bedroom. Dean would never forget the last words Sam had spoken to anyone, and how much distress had been behind them.

_Nana won’t wake up. She won’t wake up, Dean. Make her wake up._

Of course, Dean hadn’t been able to wake Millie up. No one had. No matter how hard he tried, Nana wasn’t coming back.

And John still hadn’t come back. The paramedics had showed up, the police and fire rescue right behind them, and John still hadn’t called or come to them. Dean had been incoherent at that point, trying to shield his brother from what was going on and unable to tell the rescue workers what exactly what had happened. A social worker had come later, after Millie had been declared dead, but a quick look had determined that Maria’s was the best place for the two boys to go for now.

John still hadn’t been there.

Maria and Barry had been the two to go to the funeral home, confirm Millie’s funeral plans, and call all of Millie’s friends and tell them that she was gone. They’d called Sam and Dean’s teachers and told them about Millie’s death. They’d done all this while helping the distraught Sam and Dean get through the hardest days that either boy remembered.

Again, John wasn’t there.

And through each step they went through without his father, Dean became more resolved that they’d be okay without him. Dean would make sure of it. He and Sam would make it without their father there.

Then John had come back, and all the anger Dean had shoved aside started to seep out.

“Talk to me, buddy. Please.”

“About what?”

“This can’t keep going. I get you’re mad at me. I don’t blame you. But you can’t keep blowing me off the way you’ve been doing.”

“I’m not blowing you off.”

“Dean, stop it. I mean it. We’re gonna hash this out _now._ Now when I offered to play one on one with you, you told me you weren’t interested. Then I found you outside playing with Barry. And I know you lied about having homework to do.”

Dean shuffled a little in his seat.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” John said. “So tell me what you want me to know.”

“What?”

“Lay it on me. You’ve got five minutes. You can yell, scream, curse, do whatever you want to me. But after that five minutes, you have to listen to me. Do we have a deal?” 

Dean shrugged. “Fine.”

“Okay. So go.”

“You think that’ll help?” Dean asked. “Really? I just let it all out now and I won’t be mad anymore?”

“You probably will. And I’m not saying that you can’t, Dean. But the bad attitude needs to stop.”  
  


“Well, gee, Dad, sorry it’s so hard for _you._ ”

“Dean…”

“You said I had five minutes. Did you mean it or not?” Dean fumed. “Or is it like all the times you said you’d be here and then weren’t?”

John ignored his first instinct to defend himself, and let Dean finally spill out what exactly was wrong.

“Nana was sick for days before her heart attack. I called you to try and get you to come back and make her go to the doctor. You ignored it. Sam was having nightmares for _weeks_ that made him wake up screaming and crying in the middle of the night. I called you to beg you to come back for that. You ignored it. Nana was dead. Sam and I were alone. We needed you, and you were nowhere to be found.”

John swallowed. As bad as he feared Dean putting it all on the table would be, it was nothing compared to reality.

“You always say you love us. That you want to be here for us, but you can’t because you ‘have a job to do’. What, Sam and I aren’t important enough of a job for you?”

“Dean…”

“I’m not finished!” A frustrated Dean wiped his eyes, trying to hide the tears that were spilling out now faster and faster. “I don’t want to give you a chance to get close to us again.”

John’s whisper was barely audible. “Why not?”

“Because you’ll leave. You’ll leave again. Just like you did when Mom died. And we won’t see you for weeks. And something bad’ll happen and Sam and I’ll have to deal with it without you…”

“Dean, buddy, come on. Come on, calm down.” John said, reaching a hand out to try and comfort Dean.

Dean flinched as if John had burned him. “Don’t touch me!”

“I’m sorry. I just…”

“I still have time.”

_You have more?_ John wondered. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

“I’m just scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“Mom died and you left us here with Nana. Nana died and she left us here with you. How do I know something won’t happen to you and we’ll lose you too?”

John officially felt like an idiot. How had he not seen it before? Though he and Dean had been through their share of arguments, Dean was usually quite respectful of his father. Why hadn’t Dean being scared occurred to him? Dean had lost not one, but two mothers in his life, and now was terrified to lose his father too. The answer was quite obvious. Dean wasn’t making John miserable just to make him miserable.

It was a test.

A test to see how long John would stick around.

His mother would have seen it coming a mile away.

“Dean. Look at me, buddy.” John said. When Dean finally raised his eyes, John promised, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you when you needed me. But that’s over, bud. Did you know I didn’t answer your calls about Nana because I was already on my way here?”

“What?” Dean sniffed. “Really?”

“That’s right. It took me three and a half days to get here. I wasn’t ignoring you boys, I was just trying to surprise you.”

“So, you weren’t just coming because of Nana?”

“No, Dean. I was already on my way back.” John said. “I’m sorry. I should have told you that.”

Dean nodded, slowly absorbing the information.

“Dean, I want to make things up to you. I know you’re worried about having to move. But we’re not going to. Nana left the house to me, and she made sure that I got a good job and was able to take care of you boys. I’m not here to tear up your life. I just want to be a part of it. I want to be your Dad. Can you let me do that, please?”

“I can try.” Dean said. “It’s hard to trust that you’re gonna stay when you left every other time before.”

The honesty hurt, but John was pleased that Dean was at least attempting to be civil now. “That’s all I can ask. How about we go over to your aunt’s and help her plan Sam’s party?”

“Okay, Dad.” Dean said. “I’m um, I’m sorry.”

“I know. Let’s try to do it better, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Dean? One more thing.” John said. “You’re allowed to be mad at me, and you can talk to me about it anytime. I mean that. But you are required to be polite. You start acting again like you have been, I’ll deal with it the same way your Nana used to. Catch my drift?”

Dean swallowed. His dad had never spanked him or Sam. But as sweet and gentle as she could be most of the time, his Nana had a hard hand that many more times than once had left Dean squirming in his seat and regretting his actions for days. His father was much more intimidating that Nana had been, and Dean could just imagine how much worse a punishment from his father might be.

“Got it.”

“Good.” John smiled. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Later that night, as everyone was sleeping and John was finally confident that he and Dean were getting along, a shrill scream caused John to jump out of his bed. He had only heard a scream like that once, eight and a half years earlier.

It was the scream Mary had given the night she’d been murdered.

John raced out of the bedroom and down the hall, thinking the voice had been coming from Dean’s room. But Dean met him in the hallway, looking just as confused as John did. Another beat, and they both finally figured out where the scream was coming from.

It was coming from Sammy’s room.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I swear, you guys, I think this last week was designed to kill me. I am EXHAUSTED :(. But I finally got this last chapter done, and I’m planning a new story already. Hope everyone’s doing well. Stay safe and stay healthy.**

John pushed open Sam’s door and flipped the light on. Sam was underneath his covers, thrashing about, still screaming. John moved to pull the covers back, only to be stopped by Dean, who grabbed John’s shirt and pulled him back.

“Dad, don’t do it.”

“Dean, we have to wake him up.”

“I know. But trust me. You try to wake him up by touching him and you’ll end up with a bloody nose. Just let me show you what to do. Okay?”

John nodded. “Okay, Dean.”

“Blink the light for me. Turn it on and off real slow.”

The request was an odd one, and John wanted to question it, but he instead chose to just do as Dean told him. Dean had been there through Sam’s nightmares, not him. He walked to the door and turned the light off, counted to five in his head, and turned it back on. Dean nodded and John repeated the pattern, turning the light on and off every few seconds as Dean reached to the end of Sam’s bed and pulled the blanket off him. 

“Sammy.” Dean called. “Sammy, wake up. It’s Dean and Dad.”

Sam’s eyes opened and after a moment, he adjusted. He realized it was his brother and his father in the room, not anyone else. He looked to his brother and seemed to be holding back tears.

“Same dream?” Dean asked.

Sam nodded and immediately started crying again. While Dean went to try and comfort his brother, John stood by and watched. He felt as if he was intruding on a private world of which he had no right to be privy to. Under Dean’s comfort and slight teasing, Sam went from a weeping mess to laughing in just under five minutes.

“You want some hot chocolate?” Dean suggested.

John smiled. He recognized the hot chocolate tactic. It was one his mother had used on him many times as a boy. He’d even joked with her that she should own stock in the Swiss Miss company.

“Can I join you boys?”

Sam turned to John, seeming to have forgotten he was there. John noticed the fearful look in his eye come back and his heart broke.

“Sam, what is it?”

Sam swallowed hard and he finally decided to just tell John what was bothering him. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Sorry for what, buddy?”

“He told me not to go in there with Nana that night.”

John stopped. “ _He_ told you? Who’s he?”

“The man in the dream.”

“What did he look like?”

“Dad, why are you pushing this?” Sam asked. “It was just a dream.”

“Answer the question, Sam. Now. What did the man look like?”

“The room was dark. I couldn’t see his face real good.” Sam said. “Just his eyes.”

“What about his eyes, Sam?” John asked, his heart beginning to sink in fear.

“They were yellow.”

John didn’t know what happened. A minute earlier, he had been worried about the crying Sam, but now all he could focus on was his anger. It had been a yellow-eyed demon that killed Mary. Had he come back as John was on his tail and gone after his mother?

“You saw something like that and you didn’t tell me, Sam?” John said, his voice rising with each word. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Dad, stop!” Dean shouted. “Stop yelling at him!”

“Dean, stay out of this.” John ordered.

“No! Leave Sam alone!”

John ignored Dean and grabbed Sam’s arm. “Tell me. Now. How many times have you seen…”

“Dad! Stop it! You’re hurting him!”

Suddenly John realized what he was doing, and he let go of Sam. The newly minted nine-year-old pulled himself as far away from his father as he could get. Dean put himself in front of his brother and railed on his father.

“This is why he was scared to talk to you! He felt guilty for Nana and he thought you’d blame him!”

Sam stammered and buried his head in Dean’s shirt.

“It’s okay, Sam.”

“Sam, I’m sorry…”

“Just leave us alone!”

John nodded and stepped out, back to his own bedroom. His mind was spinning. He had killed the demon. He hadn’t left until he was sure the thing was dead. Had it known John was coming after it and retaliated by killing his mother?

Either way, John knew what he had to do. He had to leave. He had to make sure the demon was actually dead, he had to make sure that it all actually was over. He grabbed his duffel bag, which he had never completely unpacked, and threw a few more clothes and other supplies into it.

“What are you doing?”

John jumped. His hand flew to his gun, but he relaxed when he saw it was just Dean. John swallowed and took a breath before answering.

“I have to leave, Dean. When the sun comes up, I’m calling your aunt and you and Sam are going back over there.”

“I knew it.” Dean said. “I knew you didn’t mean it when you said you were here for us.”

“Dean, not now…” John ordered, turning around and zipping up his bag.

“You’re a coward.”

John immediately stopped what he was doing and turned to Dean. Despite his rush to leave, he was angry. The kind of angry that caused his head to hurt and him to see red. “What did you say to me?”

“You heard me. I said you’re a coward.” Dean said. “You leave me and Sam to do what you want to do instead of being our dad when we needed you. You come back and yell at Sam, hurt him and scare him and bully him instead of trying to help him. You messed up and instead of trying to make it better, you’re leaving again.”

“I’m sorry about what happened with Sam, and I will say that to him, but you don’t know what you’re talking about, Dean.”

“You’re right. I don’t know anything about why you were gone for so long. But I do know this. I know Nana cried for you every night. I know she tried over and over to tell you that we needed you, that you needed to be a dad and come back to us. And I know you told her that we weren’t as important as whatever you were doing.”

“That’s not true, Dean.”

“YES, IT IS!” Dean shouted. “You left us and now you’re leaving again. Go on. Just don’t come back this time.”

“Dean…”

“Just leave.” Dean seethed. “We’ll be fine without you. We always are.”

“Dean, I’ll be back.”

“No. I mean it, Dad. You leave this time, you don’t come back.” Dean said. “You can hurt me all you want, but don’t do that to Sam. You go, you stay gone.”

“Daddy?”

The quiet whisper from the doorway was, in a way, more deafening than Dean’s shout from a few moments earlier. Sam stood in the doorway, tears still streaming, and when John looked towards him, Sam ran to his father and wrapped both arms around his legs.

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what, buddy?”

“That man in the dream. He told me not to go in Nana’s room and I didn’t listen. I killed her.”

“Shhh. Sammy, stop. Look at me.”

“I killed her…” Sam continued to mumble, unable to look up at his father.

“Sam, look at me, buddy.” When Sam did, John wiped his face and assured him, “You did not kill Nana. Nana was sick and that’s what killed her. Understand?”

“But…”

“But nothing. Nana was sick and that’s all there is to it. It is not your fault and there’s nothing you can say that will make it your fault. Understand?”

Sam swallowed and nodded. “I understand.”

“And I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry. I was angry earlier, but not at you, and I took it out on you. Can you forgive me, bud?”

“You promise you won’t leave?” Sam asked. “We need you.”

John took a deep breath but promised, “I’m not going anywhere, son. Come here.”

John swept both boys into a hug, which Dean reluctantly accepted. “I’m not going anywhere, son. Happy birthday.”


End file.
